


A Different Kind of Becoming

by 9_of_Clubs



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Kid Fic, M/M, daughter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9_of_Clubs/pseuds/9_of_Clubs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’d found her abandoned, the siren song of blood and murder drawing them in despite everything, her parents mutilated by forces long fled, the house burning quietly around her. (Written for the Haanigram.com "Daddy Loves You" friending meme.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Becoming

“Daddy loves you.” The words are faint, echo and flow through the silence of the hallway, and for a moment, Will thinks he’s imagined them altogether as he pauses mid step. His mind reliable now, for the most part, but prone to tricks all the same. He’s never really found trust in it again though, not even now, years since his illness and everything else.

But no, these words, flavored in Hannibal’s accent are real, he discovers as he creeps to the open doorway, watches the other’s back as he leans over the crib, his face hidden away from Will’s sight. Other murmurings are joining the first, working their way in and out of english and a language Will can’t understand.

They’d found her abandoned, the siren song of blood and murder drawing them in despite everything, her parents mutilated by forces long fled, the house burning quietly around her. For a terrible moment, he’d been certain Hannibal had been ready to slit her throat, but their eyes had met over the flames and in the end Will’s gaze had won out. In no country on earth they might flee to would it be safe to try to adopt, and after Abigail… He thinks it is the thought of her that Hannibal had seen in his eyes the moment he’d agreed silently for Will to gather up the crying child. He thinks the ghost of her lingering between them, the surge of hopeless anger Will still feels even now at her echos, had won him Mischa. Hannibal, he’s learned, is impervious to many a thing, but the thought of losing him, in the end, out does every other urge. Will doesn’t abuse the power, doesn’t think it would end very well for him if he tried, but he acknowledges its presence - understands and respects the fierceness with which Hannibal wants to keep him, and the very real fragility the other senses in Will’s remaining.

For months after they’d settled, _no choice now but to settle_ , Hannibal had said crossly and made all the arrangements, it was Will who had cared for her, fed her, held her. Hannibal had given her her name, whispered it into Will’s ear in the dark hours of the night as they lay together, and then all but withdrawn. Every now and again Will would feel his sharp gaze lingering too long on the two of them, something steely and unrecognizable in it, something a lot like jealousy, but it went unacknowledged by them both.

It is only in these recent weeks, after he'd all but accepted that this crack would always exist between them all, that he’d felt a change. Little unnecessary baubles appearing in her room, outfits he’s sure he didn’t buy gracing her wardrobe. He’d opened up a drawer the other night to find a perfect, little, pink silk bathrobe that no baby would have any use of. His lip had curled then, as he’d slipped her into it, certainty creeping up on him that despite playing the only parent for the moment, he’d be forced into the bad cop role sooner or later. He ought to have known Hannibal would like to spoil.

But tonight, this, the two of them framed in the room together as soft, quiet, light filters in and surrounds them, he can almost understand the orchestras Hannibal describes in his mind when something of pure beauty is in front of him. Family, he thinks, and hard won.

“Does Daddy love me too?” He breaks the silence with a drawl as he walks in, amusement shading his tone. Hannibal doesn’t startle, of course, never does, but a low hum of laughter slides from his lips. He turns and advances, but there’s a strange openness in his gaze as Will lets himself be pinned back against the wall, his daughter making sleepy noises in her bed.

“Of course.” The reply is low, said into his throat as lips find it. “Daddy will always love you most of all.”


End file.
